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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354470">Untitled 2</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristalwithak/pseuds/kristalwithak'>kristalwithak</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hozier - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:15:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,894</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristalwithak/pseuds/kristalwithak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff"><p>I don't know how to end these things.</p></div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Untitled 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had fucked you, hard and fast, bent over the arm of the couch in his dressing room at the Hammerstein before sound check.   Every noise that came from him that show was dripping with sex.   You were just off of stage right, barely out of sight.  You danced as he sang so beautifully for the crowd that night.  He caught brief glimpses from the corner of his eyes.  It was hard for him not to stare.     Every line was turned into an innuendo, his mind racing with thoughts of all the things he would do.   He had to hide his growing erection behind his guitar from the crowd.   He growls into the microphone ‘so fucking healthy' and it comes out more erotic than intended, it was practically pornographic.  He looks at you as he says it and you know he's only speaking to you.   You are shocked, taken aback by the raw sexiness of it, and the crowd collectively loses their shit.   Andrew would have been embarrassed if it were not an utterance of what was truly on his mind at that moment.   <br/>By the time they reached Church in the set, his voice was all but gone. He had poured it all out on the stage that night in an effort to distract himself from his lustful intentions.  It didn’t help that you were staring him down, undressing him with your eyes, just off stage to his left.  He looked so fucking good in black on black, the sleeves of his blazer rolled up to his elbows.  You couldn’t wait to get it off him.  He nearly ran to you at the call for encore after Church.  He didn’t put his hands on you for fear he’d not have the will to remove them.  He kissed you and you grasped the collar of his blazer.  He was shaking, adrenaline from the performance buzzing through him.  Rachel and Kristen giggled at the sight and Rory had to nearly drag Andrew back on stage.  The band went back to play Cherry Wine and Work Song and you went backstage and got shots ready.  <br/>The post-show ritual was shots of Jameson backstage while the crowd dispersed and a cool down jam session while the crew broke down the equipment.  Andrew had lost his voice in the performance and even his poor whisper was hoarse and graveled.  They were at the Hammerstein for 3 more nights, so they didn’t have to pack up the bus and move to the next venue.  The band wanted to linger longer than usual but Andrew was growing impatient.  He was pacing and agitated; like a cougar in a cage.   You leaned on the arm of the couch; the same one he had you bent over just hours earlier.   Andrew sat in the seat to the right of you; his arm snaked around your waist.  You traced your fingertips under the collar of his shirt.  You stayed there for a moment watching Alex flirt with every other woman in the room.   Then, unprovoked, Andrew grabbed the back of your neck and yanked you down to him so he could whisper something in your ear.   Initially your eyes widened in shock, but as Andrew spoke to you so quietly, a smile crept its way onto your face.   </p>
<p>His breath burned hot on your neck.  The timbre of his whisper was low and rough like sandpaper.  Before he could speak any words, he drew a sharp breath in through his teeth and exhaled slow and heavy.  “Honey, I want you to go now.  You know what I need you to do.  I won’t be long.”, he spoke in your ear, his accent thickened by the whiskey.  He loosened his grip on you and lightly kissed your neck and you knew that was the only gentleness you would experience from him that night.  Your pulse quickened.  Rory was glaring with concern at Andrew from across the room while watching your interaction.  Andrew raised an eyebrow at him and smirked ever so slightly; which did not exactly comfort Rory’s obvious worry.  Rory looked toward you and you winked and genuinely smiled at him.  You got up and gathered your belongings and left without explanation.  </p>
<p>You quickly make your way out of the Hammerstein, through the ground level of the parking garage and into the lobby of the New Yorker next door.  The elevator ride is long up to Andrew’s penthouse suite on the 39th floor.  You let yourself in with the key card and pour two shots of whiskey.  You set one on the table just past the door and you down the other.  You place your bag and coat on a chair; you discard your shoes underneath it.  You make your way to the bathroom.  There you disrobe, placing your clothes and undergarments on the toilet seat.  You take your hair down from its ponytail.  You pull open the curtains covering the windows.  The city is lit up on a pitch-black backdrop.  You sit on the dining table; your toes barely touch the floor.  Andrew would be there any moment and his instructions were clear; he didn’t want to see a stitch of clothing on you and he wanted you to be touching yourself as he walked in.  You leaned on your left hand and lifted your right leg up.  With your right hand, you slide your fingers across your already wet folds.  You press little circles into your clit.  In your mind its his hands on you.  You rub yourself until your fingers are slick with your arousal.  You press one finger then another into yourself.  You close your eyes and imagine how good it feels to have him inside you.  </p>
<p> Moments later, Andrew quietly walks into the room.  You hear him growl under his breath. You don't open your eyes until you hear the door click closed behind him.   It takes your eyes a moment to focus on him standing at the door in the low light of the room.   He is standing there nearly motionless and looming, his dark and hooded eyes fixed on your hand still working at your wet heat.  Your eyes meet and Andrew downs the shot on the table to his left.   You don't break eye contact with him from across the room as you work yourself to the edge.   Andrew, still just a step through the doorway, takes off every stitch of clothing and discards it in a messy pile at his feet.   He takes several long strides and is mere inches from you in a moment.   He tangles one hand into your hair and pulls, forcing you to look up at him.  He grips his cock with the other.   He lowers himself and kisses you. It’s rough and his breath is on fire.   He yanks you forward off of the table and pushes you down to your knees in front of him.   He tightens his grip on your hair and lets go of his cock.   You drag your nails down the front of his thighs and he shivers a bit.   You grasp his cock with your considerably smaller hand.  You squeeze at the base of him and lick with a flattened tongue from your fingers to his tip.  Your hand follows and you draw the head of him into your mouth.   You pump your hand back down to his base and draw his length into your mouth until his head nudges at your throat.  You swallow around him and hisses.  You hollow your cheeks and suck hard as you withdraw him from your mouth save the head of him.   Again, your squeezing hands follow up the length of him. With his cock and your hands wet with your saliva, you begin to twist and pump your hands in a mirrored motion as you suck him into your mouth like he's the last Popsicle in a world in flames.   Andrew braces himself on the table, leaning forward ever so slightly.  He loosens his grip in your hair as he encourages you to pick up your pace.   The noise coming from you was wet and sloppy.  Andrew was singing a chorus of low growls and breathy ‘aahhs’.  He allowed you to do this for several long moments before he again grasped a handful of your hair and yanked your head back, his cock leaving your mouth with a pop, forcing you to look up at him.  You were breathless. Your chest heaving with effort.   Andrew was looking down at you through his hair, his mouth hanging open. He closes his hand around the hair at the nape of your neck and lifts you to your feet.   He kisses you, open mouthed and hungry.  He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and between his teeth.   </p>
<p>Andrew guides you around the table with his hand still tangled into your hair.  He steps into you, his middle pressed hard against your chest and walks you across the room.  He turns you around to face the open window; your back toward him.  He grasps your hip and pulls as he pushes your face onto the glass of the window.  You raise yourself onto your toes and lift your ass for him.  He smacks it hard.  Andrew grabs at the bright red mark he just left and wastes no time in sinking himself into you.  You squeal a little at the stinging pain of it.  Andrew’s current mood leaves little patience for pleasantries so straight away he sets a punishing pace.  He bends forward and leans into your back, winding his hand down the front of you to press circles into your clit as he thrusts himself into you hard and fast.  He keeps his rhythm, unfaltering, as you come undone around him.  Your whole body vibrates as your orgasm crashes into you.  Your legs give out and the only things keeping you upright are Andrew pressing your face into the window and his cock impaling you from behind.  He stills for only a moment to allow you to regain your footing before continuing his assault.  He trades his grasp on your hair for a grip of your breast.  He wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you into him as he plows into you.  His face is buried into your neck.  He is panting onto your skin, sweat dripping from his chest to your back.  There is a fire starting from the friction where your bodies come together.  Andrew bites down onto your shoulder, growling into your flesh.  His body begins to betray him and his rhythm falters.  “Bean baiste” he barely whispers into your neck, “braitheann tú chomh maith”.  His confession comes as he frantically begins to chase after his own release.  He is mindlessly grinding himself into you, his movements unhinged and ragged.  A pained sounding cry escapes his chest as he stills and spills himself into you.  </p>
<p>Both of you spent; Andrew falls onto the couch and pulls you onto his lap.  Breathlessly he says “thank you for indulging me, love”.  He lets his head fall back onto the back of the couch and he is already nearly asleep when you respond “the pleasure is mine”.  Poor thing wore himself out.  When your legs recover from their current jello state, you will lift yourself from Andrew’s warm lap and shower.  He might even join you.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't know how to end these things.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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